Who Knew?
by bloodmagik
Summary: The last time Steve saw her, he made her a promise. But promises, like all living things, can sometimes be broken beyond repair. Song fic set to Pink's 'Who Knew' Rated M for content and language. Trigger fic - Please see the warnings at the top of the first page.
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

The last time she saw him, he made Mary a promise. But promises, like all living things, can sometimes be broken beyond repair.

Inspired by Pink's 'Who Knew?'

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Hawaii five-0 other than seasons 1-3 on DVD.**

**Warning: Death fic. Contents** **could be distressing - read on at your own risk. Rated M for language and content.**

A/N: I'm working on the basis that Steve is 5 years older than Mary. Set after Mary goes back to LA in season one (1X13 I think?) and then AU from there. I haven't watched the deleted scenes so as far as I'm concerned, Mary was never at her father's funeral.

_I don't have a beta so any mistakes, grammatical, medical or military, are all my own. _

* * *

**Prologue**

As the daughter of a cop, Mary had always been aware of the fact that every phone call, every knock on the door, had the potential to turn the world upside down. Mary was eleven years old when she experienced it for the first time. Her father had always said he felt sorry for the cop who had found himself standing on their doorstep after her mother had been killed in a car accident. Her brother, Steve, later said that he'd never understood what their father had meant until the day came when he'd had to do it himself.

It was always going to be the job that no-one wanted to do, to have to be the one to break the news to whoever was unlucky enough to come to the door.

Looking back, it always seemed that her mother's death was the catalyst, the reason why her relationship with her father deteriorated to the point where it was beyond repair even before he shipped her off to the mainland to live with Aunt Deb. She had hated him for it.  
Her brother joined the navy and missed every birthday, every holiday. His phone calls became more and more infrequent and then stopped all together. She cried herself to sleep the first time he forgot her birthday.  
The next day she overheard her aunt telling a cousin he'd been deployed overseas.

Steve had been the one to tell her. Ten years of radio silence and her big brother was calling to tell her that their father was dead.  
She didn't make it back in time for the funeral.

She flew into Honolulu a few months later. Had it not been for the little incident with the smoke detector on the plane, she would have walked straight past her brother as he stood waiting for her next to the conveyor belts in arrivals. The man that walked into the interrogation room was solid, all hard lines and sharp angles; He looked nothing like her Steve, the older brother who gave her piggyback rides on the beach at the back of their house and held her hand as they crossed the street.

She buried her grief under layers of falsified indifference for years, allowing the anger she felt towards her father to consume her from the minute she walked through the departure gate and onto the plane. Eighteen years later, she finally understands why her dad made the decision to allow what was left of their family to be ripped apart.  
It's like deja-vu when Steve shrugs her bag off of his shoulder and pulls her into his arms. She hadn't realised, when she had grudgingly hugged her father goodbye all those years ago, that it would be the last time she ever saw him. She doesn't want to make the same mistake with her brother.

Standing there, in front of the departure gate as they announce the final call for her flight, Steve makes her a promise. But promises, like all living things, can sometimes be broken beyond repair.

* * *

_Worth continuing? _


	2. Chapter 2 Realisation

**Warnings: Please see chapter one_._**

_Unbeta'ed so any and all mistakes are my own._

* * *

_You took my hand, you showed me how. You promised me you'd be around. That's right… I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me._

_If someone said three years from now you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out 'cause they're all wrong. I know better 'cause you said forever and ever. Who knew?_

_Remember when we were such fools and so convinced and just too cool. I wish I could touch you again, I wish I could still call you, friend. I'd give anything._

_When someone said count your blessings before they're long gone, I guess I just didn't know how. I was all wrong. They knew better. Still, you said forever and ever. Who knew?_

_I keep you locked in my head until we meet again. Until we meet again and I won't forget you, my friend. What happened?_

_If someone said three years from now you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out 'cause they're all wrong and that last kiss, I'll cherish until we meet again. And time makes it harder, I wish I could remember but I keep your memory. You visit me in my sleep. _

_My darling, who knew?_

**H50*H50*H50**

**Realisation **

The early morning sun wrapped itself around the mountains overlooking Pasadena on the day Mary's world turned upside down. It peeked hesitantly around the gap in the curtains as she peeled back the covers and pushed herself out of bed, rushing past her to flood the room when the curtains were suddenly flung aside.  
It had always rained in the movies she watched as a teenager; Tragedy meant grey skies and unrelenting rain, not sunshine and cloudless, blue skies. It felt so wrong that something so horrible could happen on such a beautiful day, like someone 'up there' was playing a cruel joke at her expense.

She had felt the telltale fluttering of nerves against her ribcage when her cell phone rang, the vibrations sending it jumping and skipping along the granite countertop in the kitchen of her rented apartment. The polished stone had glittered almost ominously in the narrow strip of sunlight that poured through the tiny window over the sink. She'd hesitated at the 'unknown number' identification that had flashed teasingly across the illuminated screen, apprehensively bringing her index finger up to hover over the distinctive green band twinkling provocatively at the bottom of the screen.

_"Mary?"_

The voice was tinny, distorted by static and the low rumbling of the wind in the background.

_"Mary, it's Danny. It's Danno…"_

He'd hesitated and she'd known, the sudden realisation sending her stumbling into the bank of cupboards lining the kitchen wall and she'd slid to the floor, pressing the heel of her hand against her mouth to stifle the sound of her heart breaking in two. He'd stayed on the line and let her cry, listened silently as she screamed and pleaded with him, begged him to tell tell her that it wasn't real, that the whole thing was just a sick joke.

Two and a half thousand miles away, he'd huffed quietly, choking back tears as he turned to scrub at his aching eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

_"I'm so sorry, Mary."_

Steve had been the one to tell her when their father died and his phone call had unwittingly triggered a tidal wave of emotions - anger, grief, jealousy, _regret_. All tied up in a neat little ball and slowly tearing her apart.  
She'd been angry, secretly jealous of her brother's continued relationship with the man who'd abandoned her and sent her away to the mainland to live with his sister. She'd hated him for it.  
Most of all, she'd felt regret; She regretted not making more of an effort to repair their damaged relationship, that the last time she spoke to her father was the last time she ever saw him.  
She'd made Steve promise that the same thing wouldn't happen to them.

She spends the six hour flight from LAX spiralling between anger and sorrow, and bitter self-condemnation. She's angry at Steve for doing this to her, for breaking his promise and leaving Danny with the responsibility of being the one to break the bad news to his partner's only living relative.

Danny is quiet when he greets her with a hug; The lack of talking and absence of hand gestures only goes to drive home the fact that she's here because her brother really is gone.  
Danny doesn't ask, just takes the tatty backpack from her hand and swings it up over his shoulder as he moves to guide her through the crowds of tourists. The heat is almost suffocating when she steps out into the midday sun and she pauses, one hand on the passenger door of the Camaro, to look out over the sprawling hills towards the beach and the crystal clear ocean just beyond it. She'd forgotten just how perfect it was.

He takes her home, back to the house where she and Steve grew up and where her father and her brother both died, and it saddens her to stand out on the lanai knowing that her brother, always so focussed and loyal, and determined to follow in their father's footsteps, could never do the same. It just didn't seem fair.  
She takes the beer Danny holds out to her and clutches the bottle close to her chest as she gazes out at the water beyond the small stretch of private beach, tries to gather the strength to pose the question she's been asking herself since she got the news.

"What happened to him, Danny?"

She isn't sure she wants to hear the answer.

**H50*H50*H50**

The sight of Steve on his knees, the muscles over his shoulders rigid against the thin cotton of his t-shirt as he curled forward, had scared him almost as much as the gun being pointed at his partner's head. Danny hadn't stopped to think as he'd squared his stance and raised his own semi-automatic.

Five seconds later, the back of the guy's head had exploded, spraying the ground behind him with a fine mist of blood and bone, and he'd broken into a run, sliding on the loose dirt covering the lot as he skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees.

_"You okay?"_

Steve had nodded tightly and he'd felt the first strands of worry coiling at the bottom of his stomach at the sudden shift away from the almost-automated '_I'm fine'_.  
Steve's face had paled as he'd wrapped his arm around his aching chest and he'd leaned heavily on Danny's offered hand as he'd staggered to his feet. The crow bar had gone unseen, the heavy metal pole glistening in the early afternoon sun behind them as he'd guided Steve towards the passenger seat of his car.

He'd bullied Steve into going to the ER, flashing his badge at the young, harried-looking nurse when she'd argued that he wasn't allowed into the treatment area. The cubical had been small and harshly lit, and he'd leaned against the wall opposite the bed, folding his arms across his chest as he'd watched the nurse take Steve's temperature and wrap the blood pressure cuff around his partner's bicep. Steve had looked tired under the fluorescent lighting, his movements sluggish when the nurse pressed him back against the paper-covered mattress and he'd felt his concern kick up a notch, the winding strands in his stomach knotting and twisting into a solid ball the size of his fist.  
The left side of Steve's chest had been a mass of bruising, mottled hues of blue and purple that moulded themselves around the soft contours of his ribs and crept downwards, curving over the vee of his hipbone to slide under the waistband of his pants. The doctor had run his hands over the discoloured flesh, pressing the tips of his fingers into the tender skin arching over the sweeping curve of Steve's ribcage before pulling the stethoscope from the back of his neck.  
They'd said that the ribs were 'probably broken' and turned their attention to the expanse of hot, swollen skin and the shallow, rasping breaths that sent fiery bolts of pain radiating up the sides of Steve's neck and across his back. The IV cocktail of painkillers and NSAIDs had left his partner woozy and bleary-eyed, and he'd slipped through the gap in the curtains when Steve had blinked at him confusedly and stayed awake just long enough to pull rank, and order him back to the office.

Steve had looked washed out against the dark fabric of his t-shirt when he'd returned four hours later.  
His dress shoes had squeaked against the blue-green linoleum floor as he'd followed the orderly along the brightly lit corridor towards the small observation unit at the back of the ER and he'd felt a wave of relief wash over him when he'd walked onto the ward to find Steve dressed, sitting with his legs over the edge of the bed as he waited for the nurse to fill his prescription and bring his discharge papers.  
He'd hovered awkwardly near Steve's elbow as they walked to the car; Steve had curled forwards, wrapping his arm around his side as he started to inch his way towards the exit and he had followed, tucking the brown A4 envelope containing Steve's meds and care instructions under his arm as he pushed through the swinging door into the waiting room and held it open for his partner.

Steve had been quiet during the 20 minute drive from Queens and Danny had glanced across at the passenger seat, the glow from the red traffic light drawing his attention to the dark circles under Steve's eyes and the tension in his jaw.  
He'd gone on ahead, opening the door with his key while Steve shuffled gingerly behind him and he'd nudged him towards the stairs, his hand coming up to rest on his partner's lower back when he paused halfway up to catch his breath. The cotton beneath his palm had been damp with sweat. Upstairs, he'd taken the pillows from Mary Ann's room and stacked them two-deep against Steve's wrought iron headboard, reaching across the bed to pull the sheets up over Steve's legs once he'd found a comfortable position. Steve hadn't argued when he'd pressed the pills into his hand and he'd hesitated, feeling torn between going home and spending the night on his partner's couch.  
Steve had put an end to his dilemma by kicking him out.

He'd been a little surprised that Steve hadn't been in the office when he'd walked in after dropping his daughter off at school. His partner was the sort of person who'd have dragged himself to work even if his head had only been hanging on by a thread and he'd felt the familiar strands of worry coiling in his stomach when Steve's phone went to voicemail. They'd all chalked it up to their boss being asleep, drugged to the gills to dull the stabbing pain that flared every time he moved. He'd pushed out of his chair, reaching for his keys, the third time Steve's phone had rung out.  
The ground floor had been quiet when he'd slipped through the front door and he'd headed towards the staircase, calling his partner's name as he took the steps two-at-a-time. The door to the master bedroom had been wide open, the room beyond it dark as he'd hovered in the doorway and he'd taken a cautious step towards the bed, his eyes focussing on the pile of blankets on the left.  
He'd fumbled for the light switch, grimacing when the sudden brightness caused pain to flare behind his eyes and he'd called Steve's name again, his face twisting in concern when the lump under the blankets didn't stir.

_"Steve?"_

He'd reached across to pull the blankets away, pausing when the backs of his fingers brushed against Steve's face. Steve's cheek had been cold and his heart had thudded heavily against his chest as he'd pressed two fingers against his partner's neck.  
He'd prayed, pleaded with his partner to talk to him, to open his eyes as he searched frantically for the bounding throbs he so desperately wanted to feel beneath his fingertips.


	3. Chapter 3 Acceptance

**Warnings: please see chapter one. Part of this chapter gets a little graphic although its nothing you wouldn't see on the show - I'll put a little note at the ****beginning and the end so you can skip over that part if you want to.**

_All mistakes, medical or otherwise, are my own._

_A/N: I've added a quite a big chunk to chapter two so if you haven't seen it, please go back before moving on.  
I cried while I was writing this chapter - I felt so bad for making Danny tell Mary the details but I figured that if Steve died on the show, Danny would be the one to comfort her.  
_

_I'm sorry this took so long - it was difficult to find the right words._

* * *

**Acceptance**

Danny clears his throat, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the golden velvety sand at the waterline as it peeks out from under the white crests of the waves breaking on the shore.

"It's looking like he bled out overnight. Max," he glances sideways, "He, uh, he said that Steve wouldn't have known what was happening, that it was peaceful. He went to sleep and he… He just never woke up."

She nods tightly and sets her almost-full bottle of beer on the plastic table behind her, lifting her hands to scrub roughly at her eyes. The delicate skin underneath is puffy and hot with dark circles like bruises that stand out against her pale complexion. She's always thought that her bother would go out in a blaze of glory, fighting hard until the last breath of air was forced from his lungs. Steve had survived a tour of Afghanistan and six years in the Seals only to die alone in his sleep. It felt remarkably cruel; Not just to her but to the rest of Five-0, to Catherine and to Grace. They were Steve's adopted family, his _Ohana _after he'd been forced to send her back to the mainland, away from the crystal clear waters and tropical beaches that had been starting to feel like home again.

She shivers slightly in the cool breeze, pulling her hands up into the sleeves of her shirt and hugging her arms to her stomach as she leans heavily against the white wooden pillar to her right. When she closes her eyes she can still feel the pressure of Steve's arms, so warm and comforting, wrapped around her back and the burn of his stubble brushing against her skin as he presses his lips to the top of her head.  
The last memory she has of her big brother is the spicy warmth of his cologne and the rough pad of his thumb on her cheek as he brushes her hair from her face.

_'We're going to see each other again, okay? We will.'_

_'You promise?'_

_'Yes. I promise.'_

"I want to see him." The sky is turning electric above the water and she brushes at the tears on her cheeks, turning to look at her brother's former partner across the lanai. "Please…"

Danny tears his gaze away from the vivd bursts of pink and orange staining the darkening water beyond the beach at her plea and he nods tiredly, rubbing the palms of his hands down over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks. He smiles at her sadly, reaching across the space to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll talk to Max, see what he can do."

"Thank you," She wraps her arms around Danny's neck, pressing her forehead into his collarbone as she breathes in the fresh, ocean-cotton mix of the sea and his shirt, and she feels him squeeze her tight.

"I miss him so much, Danny."

He huffs quietly and pulls her closer, burying his face in her hair. His eyes are wet when he pulls out of her embrace and she can hear the cell phone vibrating audibly against the keys in his pocket as he turns away to scrub at his face with the heel of his hand. He glances down at his phone and she takes a half step forwards, pushing up onto the balls of her feet to peer nosily over his shoulder when she sees his expression darken at the name flashing across the bright, backlit screen.

"Does she know?"

Danny shakes his head, turning his gaze back to the beach when the phone stills against the palm of his hand. "Uh, no. Not yet, anyways. I should go, call her back…"

She nods, keeping her gaze fixed on the shadowy palms at the edge of the water as Danny collects the empty bottles from the plastic table behind her and turns towards the french doors. His head is bowed, shoulder slumped, as she watches him step over the sill into the dining room and her eyes drift towards the tarnished silver photo frame on the dresser behind her father's desk, and the smiling dark-haired couple in their grey-green working uniforms.

"I'll call her," She ducks around the table, her long blonde hair swinging in front of her face as she breaks into a run. Danny has one hand on the polished brass handle of the open door when she catches up to him on the front porch.

"I'll call her… I'll call Catherine."

**H50*H50*H50**

She's not quite sure what to expect as Danny guides her down the long, narrow corridor towards the ME's office at the end. The large room feels cold under the harsh fluorescent lights despite the warmth of Danny's hand on the small of her back and the brilliant sunshine pouring in through the bank of windows lining the back wall, and she hesitates in the doorway, her gaze flicking over the windows on their left and the silvery blinds drawn across them.  
She sits stiffly in the leather chair Danny pulls out for her, clutching the purple stuffed dolphin Grace had tearfully insisted they give to her 'Uncle Steve' close to her chest as the fluttering in her stomach turns to delicate shivers that leave her eyes wet and her hands shaky, and she tenses her jaw, tilting her head as she angrily brushes the pad of her thumb over the hot, puffy skin beneath her eyes.

She hadn't cried when Steve had called to say their father was dead, or when she'd discovered that their mother had been murdered, despite the rush of emotions that had grabbed at her and spun her round and round, and round again until she hadn't known which way was up. After that phone call she'd chosen tequila over her feelings and a handful of pills over her family, leaving Steve to arrange the funeral and scrub the bloodstains from the hardwood floor by himself.  
She'd been too numb to care that she'd missed her final chance to say goodbye.

**A/N: *Graphic bit starts here***

Her legs feel like jelly as Max pushes through the swinging glass door to the viewing suite and the first thing she's hit with is the sweet, sickly smell of antiseptic, so thick and cloying that it burns at the back of her throat with every breath. The room is sterile and brightly lit, and the cold grey counters lining the walls flash under the industrial tube lights lining the ceiling as she hesitantly steps over the threshold, her eyes drifting from the tiled floor, up over the stainless steel legs of the gurney in the middle of the room to the thin white sheet draped over the body - Steve's body - on top of it.  
She takes a faltering step closer, turning to look over her shoulder as the comforting warmth and reassurance of her brother's former partner fades in her wake. Danny is hovering rigidly in the doorway, his jaw tight as he runs a hand back over his hair and she waits for him to look at her across the room, the words already formed on her lips. _Please, Danny._

"Whenever you are ready."

Max is watching her from the other side of the gurney, his hands encased in blue latex gloves as he reaches for the end of the sheet and she closes her eyes, nodding as the warmth of Danny's hand on her shoulder and his arm across her back seeps through the cotton of her chequered shirt. The sheet is gently lifted up over her brother's face and her breath catches in her throat when Max folds it back over his chest, momentarily exposing a line of delicate black thread pulling at the skin over Steve's shoulder. The sight leaves her feeling shaky and weak, and she turns her head away, pressing her cheek into Danny's chest as she closes her eyes and allows her tears to darken the fabric beneath her skin.  
Her brother's face is pale and waxy when she pulls out of Danny's embrace, his usually-tanned skin almost grey against the bright white of the cotton sheet pulled up over his chest and she takes a steadying breath.

**A/N: End of graphic part.**

"Could I have a minute with him?"

She swipes at the trails of wetness on her cheeks as she glances back over her shoulder at Danny and across the table at the poker-faced ME, forcing a smile when they nod and she drops her eyes to floor, waiting for the sounds of their footsteps to fade behind the swinging glass door before she takes a half step closer. She sniffs quietly and her jaw trembles as she lifts her hand to cup Steve's face, tears cascading down her face as she tenderly runs her thumb over the arch of his cheekbone.

"I can't believe you're really gone. Even now that I'm standing here with you, it still doesn't feel real. I - _We - _miss you so much, especially Grace; She was devastated when Danny told her. She really did love you, y'know?" She brushes at her face with the heel of her free hand, "She loved you so much because you were her fun Uncle Steve who took her hiking and helped her build sandcastles on the beach. Remember you told me how you and Danno took her to the aquarium for her birthday and you, uh, you bought her that stuffed dolphin, the one that was almost as big as she was? She wants you to have him," She smiles sadly, letting her thumb come to rest on the side of his face.

"She told Danny she doesn't want you to be scared and alone, and Danny," she lets out a shaky breath, "He, uh, he told her that you were a Super Seal, that you weren't afraid of anything, and as long as your _o__hana_ is watching over you, you'll never be alone. She's scared, Steve; she doesn't understand why you went to sleep and didn't wake up. Danny told her that you'd gone to see Mom and Dad because you missed them so much, and that you were sad to leave her behind. She wants to come and say goodnight.

"I called Catherine. She's halfway across the world but she's managed to get on a flight. Chin's picking her up from Hickam tomorrow morning. _0800 hours -_ that's what you Navy types say, isn't it?" She brushes at her eyes, "I never told you how proud I was of you; You were so determined to follow in Dad's footsteps despite him shipping us off to the mainland. I spent so long hating him for it that I missed my chance to say goodbye. I've regretted it every single day since we found out that Mom was murdered, that Dad had known it wasn't a car accident that killed her. When you dropped me off at the airport I made you promise.

"You promised me we'd see each other again, Steve," she takes a deep breath, running her thumb over her brother's cheekbone one last time before leaning down to press her lips to his forehead.

"So this is me keeping it."


End file.
